Duet
by Deandra
Summary: A husband admires his wife. Fluffy little ONESHOT. Part 102 of the Elfwine Chronicles.


**_Part 102 of the Elfwine Chronicles. The Elfwine Chronicles are a series of one-shots built around the family group of Eomer, Lothiriel and Elfwine. The total number will depend on how many ideas I get for new vignettes._**

**_A/N: I figure there are at least 4 couples, maybe even 5, this might be until you reach almost the end of it. See if you guess correctly which it is. You lot need to read faster! I've still got several stories coming – try to keep up! I have given up on my goal to have at least 10 reviews of each story since that just isn't happening. Ah well! I'll trust you're enjoying them anyway._**

**Duet**

**(Dec, 27 IV)**

His eyes followed her around the room, as she moved with the easy grace that was so much a part of her. Every line of her being bespoke her royal birth, though that meant little to her – or to him. Her heritage could not be ignored, of course, but it made no difference to his falling for her. He loved her – passionately. She was her own person, and did not choose to fit anyone else's mold for her.

She was warm and caring, and a fierce defender of those whom she loved. She had proven that time and again. He was honored to have place among the group that meant more to her than anything else.

And now she was his. That was an awe-inspiring thought. Was he equal to the challenge of standing at her side, of raising a family, of being a worthwhile part of her life?

He desperately hoped she would never regret accepting him. He was rough mannered and imperfect. What could she possibly have seen to make her desire him? He could only speculate on that but, whatever it was, he would always be grateful he possessed it.

She drifted closer, and he saw the light in her eyes – the passion for living that always seemed to burn there. Though still several feet away from him, her eyes caught his gaze. A slight smile twitched at her mouth, but something much more flared in the depths of her eyes.

Extricating herself from conversation with those around her, she glided toward him, taking his hand and drawing him into the dance just starting. It was a slower dance, and there were moments during which he held her in his arms. Could anything be sweeter than her presence in his embrace, and the love for him manifest in her eyes.

Lost in the moment, their lips met in a tender kiss and the room around them faded into non-existence, though it resurfaced noisily with shouts and applause for their display of affection. Though she blushed, he could only think, _Let them cheer!_ His own heart was shouting for joy just as loudly as any voice in the Hall.

Then her father was there and holding out his hand insistently, demanding his turn on the floor with his daughter. As he relinquished his bride and moved away, he noted the approving twinkle in her father's eyes. He watched from the sidelines, again grateful that this man had been willing to entrust his daughter to him. He would never do anything to betray that trust, for her father's sake or hers.

When the dance ended, she returned to him, impulsively catching him in another kiss. Since their wedding, she had seemed possessed of an eager desire to do so, and he could not say that he minded one single bit.

The time was drawing near when they could retire to their rooms as man and wife, and come to know one another even more intimately. He wondered if she was nervous; he had heard women often were. If he was completely honest, he was a little nervous also. His upbringing had discouraged casual intimate behavior with willing women, and he had refrained from such despite all temptations. Likely he was just as new to all this as his bride would be, but they could learn together.

Her eyes met his, and they were filled with nothing but trust. Whatever natural trepidation there might be, clearly love and utter confidence in him outweighed them in her mind. He smiled at the realization, vowing always to be worthy of that view of him. Reaching for her hand, he drew her near to his side and they turned toward the exit.

He was not much surprised when they were intercepted by her mother. Looking into her daughter's eyes, she seemed to be asking a silent question, and apparently found the answer she sought there for she smiled warmly and kissed her daughter's cheek.

Then turning to him, the queen said quietly, "My daughter has chosen her husband well, Freawine. I am pleased. I know the two of you will be good for one another. Enjoy each other." With that she kissed his cheek also, then stepped aside.

Something about her mother's approbation freed Theodwyn from her demure behavior. Catching his hand, she giggled and turned to back down the hall, drawing him after her. She was not one to do anything hesitantly or halfheartedly. The adventure that was to be their life was clearly only beginning this night.

THE END

9/17/06 – 10/6/06

**_End note: It is best that you read the Elfwine Chronicles in the order they were written. The more of them that I wrote, the more likely I was to make reference to one of the previous ones and something that happened there. If you want to read them in order, go to the top of this page and click on my name (Deandra). That will take you to my profile page. Scroll down and you will find all the stories I have written. The Elfwine Chronicles are in order from bottom to top since ffn shows them in the order they were posted. A few were posted out of number order (#15 came after #17, I think), but you can read them in posting order or number order since those few won't be affected in the story content._**


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